


I'm Gonna Do You One Better

by berlynn_wohl



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Anal Sex, Dirty Talk, Jealousy, M/M, Multi, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-07
Updated: 2017-03-07
Packaged: 2018-09-30 14:28:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10164998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/berlynn_wohl/pseuds/berlynn_wohl
Summary: Spy's banging Sniper. Sniper's banging Scout. Scout has the filthiest mouth imaginable, which Spy finds out when they have a three-way. That's the fic.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is not a manual for how to do polyamory correctly. I do not endorse any of the behavior exhibited by any of the characters in this fic.

Spy extinguishes his post-coital cigarette in the old tin can that Sniper has placed nearby for that purpose. Reflexively, he examines the can for cigarettes that are neither his brand nor Sniper’s. In this instance, doing so is not particularly revelatory – he already knows that Sniper has another lover. And he knows that Scout doesn’t smoke.

“How did things turn out with the boy?” Spy asks, putting so much insouciance into the question that it is obvious to Sniper that he cares deeply what the answer is.

Sniper torments him by being deliberately vague. “Was alright,” he drawls. A long silence passes, during which Spy stares daggers at Sniper, who is just gazing at the ceiling like what he said was not at all a cruel tease. The evening summer sun sneaks through the faded curtains, and the cigarette smoke fills the cramped upper bunk of Sniper’s camper with a languid haze.

Finally, Sniper turns, more to flick his cigarette ash into the tin can than to look at Spy, but ultimately doing both. “Feelin’ a bit jealous?”

“Not at all,” Spy scoffs. “I’m merely collecting data. If I weren’t ravenous when it came to information-gathering, I would be a very poor spy.”

Sniper snorts, “You _are_ a poor spy, mate.”

Spy rolls his eyes, turns onto his back and puts his hands behind his head, refusing to dignify that with a response.

Sniper takes another drag, taps the ash again. Finally, he remarks, “Kid says some mad things when it really gets going.”

Spy raises one eyebrow and tilts his head toward Sniper. “Anything you’d care to repeat?”

Clear as a bell is Sniper’s memory of Scout, perched in his lap in Scout’s narrow bed, sweat gathering under his hands on Scout’s hips, guiding him roughly up and down. Lacking any inhibition whatsoever, the kid had thrown his head back and screamed at the ceiling in his hammered-flat Boston accent, _Oh God! I can’t believe you’re having sex with me in my asshole!_

Sniper stubs out his cigarette in the tin can. “Can’t remember anything specific,” he says with a grunt.

Spy clears his throat. “Well. Your elaborate, finely-detailed stories never cease to thrill me,” he says, stretching, “but I’m afraid it’s about time for me to make my way back to my base.”

Sniper rolls onto one side; his soft cock flops against his thigh. He puts his hand over Spy’s, lightly interlacing their fingers. “You sure you can’t stay the night? Be nice if you did, once in a while.”

“Perhaps when this war is over,” Spy sighs, and slides his hand out from under Sniper’s, retreating from the upper bunk and gathering up his clothes.

 

****

 

Six days and twenty-two hours later, they’re back in Sniper’s bunk, cigarettes on stand-by for now. Under a thin blanket, which Spy insists now that Sniper launder regularly, the two of them squirm against each other, their only sounds the occasional hum of pleasure or amusement, as they play with each other’s pricks, still not certain yet in what arrangement of bodies the situation will resolve, and in no hurry to decide.

Just as Sniper chuckles at one of Spy’s uncharacteristically soft, vulnerable whimpers, there’s a pounding on the door of the camper. From outside comes the unmistakable voice: “’Ey yo Snipes, open up!”

Sniper jerks away from Spy and growls, “What the bloody hell.”

“Ignore him,” Spy suggests.

“You think that kid can take a hint when he’s being ignored? Better think again.” The last few words are drowned out by Scout beating on the door and shouting “I know you’re in there!”

Had he been in a more generous, hospitable mood, Sniper might have put on some trousers before greeting a guest. As it is, he is furious, and demonstrates this by flinging open the door stark naked with a throbbing erection. As the door swings outwards, it nearly hits Scout in the face. Scout dodges it, but is thrown off balance, giving Sniper the opportunity to grab him by one skinny arm and haul him into the camper.

Slamming the door shut, Sniper whirls around to face Scout, and the two of them look each other up and down. Scout is clearly unsure whether he’s actually gotten what he wanted.

Sniper snarls, “What the hell are you thinking, coming ‘round here and shrieking so the whole base can hear you?”

Scout sputters, and comes up with nothing in response. He looks around, wildly, including into the upper bunk. He is not surprised at all that there’s another person up there, though his view of them is partially blocked.

“I’ll _tell_ you what you were thinking,” Sniper goes on. “You wanted my attention, and you knew you weren't gonna get it tonight, so you decided instead you'd ruin my good time. Well, I’m gonna do you one better, you little mongrel – I’m gonna let you join in on it.” He shoves Scout toward the step by which he might boost himself into the bunk. From here, Scout can now see who the current occupant is.

“What the crap?” He recoils, backing right into Sniper’s arms.

Sniper holds him by the shoulders and says, “Now don’t act like I didn’t tell you why my Friday nights weren’t free.”

“Yeah,” Scout says, squirming, “but when you said you were ballin’ Spy, I thought you meant _our_ Spy!”

Spy says nothing, just maintains a haughty expression, as Sniper presses against Scout’s back and whispers in his ear, “Come on now, sweetheart. You trampled your way in here; now’s no time to lose your nerve. You want a good root? _This_ bloke'll give it to ya.”

Scout seems to want to continue resisting – his body is stiff, his throat clogged with protests – but Sniper’s putting his big, warm hands underneath Scout’s shirt, treating the smooth skin over his ribs and belly to firm, steady strokes. Soon, Scout is letting him pull the shirt up and off, even as he continues to stare, incredulous, at a smugly lounging Spy.

“No doubt you were hoping to be fucked by Sniper this evening,” Spy says, as Sniper reaches around Scout’s body to unbuckle his belt.

Scout admits, “Kinda.”

“You find him to be an exceptional lover?”

“Haha, yeah!” Scout catches himself, rubs the back of his neck self-consciously. “I mean, I ain't gay or nothin', but Sniper's cock is amazing.”

Spy repositions himself suggestively and says, “He is a good fuck, yes. But I am better.”

Sniper pipes up, “Oi!” But he is silenced by a glare from Spy, a look that says, _Can you contain yourself, please, I am trying to make all our lives easier over here_. Sniper returns to his task, working Scout’s trousers open and tugging them down, along with his underwear. Scout’s prick is firming up, and a brush of fingertips confirms that his pre-come has started. The kid is no challenge.

Scout twists around and asks Sniper, “Is he really better than you?”

“Only one way to find out,” Sniper rumbles against his ear.

Scout nods solemnly, and toes off his own shoes and socks, no longer needing encouragement. His cock is rock solid, and all he can think of is how awfully bad he wants a fuck. He climbs into the upper bunk, with Sniper right behind, his long arms on either side of Scout to guide him.

Spy delights in the contrasting sight: the young, rambunctious Scout – slender save for his solid thighs and shapely calves, his body nearly hairless, just a tuft above his pink little circumcised cock – being urged into the bunk and followed closely by the steady and much taller Sniper, whose jutting prick is sheathed in a foreskin several shades darker than the rest of him, a thick spray of dark hair over his chest and belly, leading down to a dense, untrimmed bush.

As Scout flops into the bunk next to him, Spy catches a whiff of soap; Scout arrived freshly showered. How courteous, and a rare treat – Sniper tended to show up as he was, which…had its own charms, Spy had to admit.

Spy nuzzles Scout’s neck, breathing him in, partially staving off the desire to crawl downwards and bury his face between Scout’s cheeks, and indulge in the boy’s clean, musky smell where it would be the most intense. Sniper spoons up behind Scout, and when Scout feels an erection poking against his backside, he turns his head for a kiss, further exposing his long throat to Spy’s attentions.

Scout lolls back and forth between the two of them, though he is soon clearly favoring Sniper. Spy doesn’t mind; it is natural, being that he is more familiar and comfortable with Sniper, and likely only up here with both of them because it was the only way to have Sniper at all that evening. And anyway, Scout is eagerly allowing both men to delight in the novelty of a flawless, youthful body at their disposal. Wrapped up in sloppily kissing Sniper, he does not stop Spy from stroking him all over, does not object when Spy bombards Sniper with filthy inquiries about Scout as if he isn’t there – questions about how intensely Scout craves cock, how good he is at taking it, whether his blowjobs have any technique. Sniper answers honestly, describing Scout’s talents and proclivities in a fair amount of detail.

But smirking at Sniper over their mutual conquest, Spy ends up taking it a little too far, making a rather rude observation about how small Scout’s cock looks in Sniper’s hand. Scout hurls a few invectives at Spy in return, but Sniper tries to calm things down: “Nah mate, it’s a lovely little thing. It makes sucking him off easy, ‘cause you can get the whole thing in your mouth – and once he’s shot down your throat, he’ll let you do pretty much whatever you want to him.”

“That _is_ interesting,” Spy says, though he wonders how necessary a blowjob actually is; he already has the Vaseline out and is holding Scout’s cheeks apart with one hand, and Scout is not protesting in the least. Sniper is jerking Scout off, which makes him care less about the discomfort the first probing finger might cause. In fact, Spy is having trouble discerning whether Scout’s groans and yelps of pleasure are caused by Sniper’s steady hand or his own.

Once he’s able to get two fingers in and out without resistance, Spy uses the Vaseline to tend to himself for a moment, then draws himself close behind Scout, slick cock in his hand, and deftly eases himself inside. Scout yowls in a manner that befits him: contentious but not actually objecting. In moments, his enthusiasm is unquestionable, pushing his ass out to meet Spy’s advances.

Somehow, Spy’s thrusts manage to be both indolent and perfectly rhythmic. He fucks Scout as though he’s too good for it, but also too proud to do less than a stellar job. He asks, “What do you think, _petit?_ Am I fucking you nicely?”

“Oh, yeah,” Scout says, his every breath a little grunt. “I mean, you may be a rat bastard, but you really know how to get up in there!”

Spy has a little laugh at this. “And how do I compare to your precious Sniper?”

Scout takes a moment to evaluate, finally deciding, “It feels classier, the way you do it.”

“What do you mean?”

“I dunno, it’s like, Sniper’s pretty much an animal, yeah? But with you, I feel like I oughta be eatin’ caviar and drinkin’ champagne while I’m getting my asshole wrecked.”

There’s a hitch in Spy’s rhythm when he hears this. “You weren’t kidding about the things he says,” he mutters to Sniper over Scout’s shoulder. Sniper is feeling a bit superfluous through all of this, alternating between jerking Scout off, then himself, while Spy does the hard work. He scoots up close, sandwiching Scout tightly between his and Spy’s bodies, so that he can rub their pricks together.

Scout is not tiny, but he is lithe, and can be easily manipulated into any arrangement of limbs that Spy and Sniper see fit to put him in. Spy takes advantage of this and slides both arms around Scout’s waist. Gripping tightly, he rolls the two of them backwards, pulling Scout on top of him, thighs splayed open, cock swinging to and fro. Spy hoped to stay inside Scout for this move, but in the roll he slips out. Hastily, he reaches down and grips his cock, sliding it around until he finds the give and working it back inside. He is much more forceful now, his whole body flexing to thrust up into Scout, who moans helplessly with each stroke.

At first, Sniper is annoyed that Spy rolled Scout away from him, but he soon changes his mind, because now he can see everything plainly: Spy’s cock driving in and out of Scout’s lean body, which is flushed from cheeks to belly the same shade of pink as his cock; the precious faces Scout makes each time Spy pushes up deep; Spy’s limbs quivering with his efforts. What Sniper wants to do right now is get on top of Scout, on top of both of them, and make them take turns sucking his cock while they fuck, but there is simply no room for it. They’ll have to do this in someone’s room in the base next time. For now, Sniper leaves his own prick alone to focus on Scout’s, as Scout is making it clear that he is close, mainly by shrieking such things as, “Holy crap, my freakin’ balls are so full they feel like they’re gonna explode!”

Scout flails and grunts, his attempts to get more of Spy’s cock charmingly graceless, until he hollers one final time, “Oh my God, I’m coming! My freakin’ asshole is coming!” And indeed, Spy can feel Scout squeezing hard around him as he is wracked by orgasmic tremors. He heaves and strains with such force, Spy has to grip him with all his might to keep his cock from slipping out again. 

“I’m about ready to finish, myself,” Spy says mildly to Sniper when Scout finally settles down, “and then you’re free to avail yourself of whichever of his orifices you need.”

Still in a shivering haze, Scout blurts out, “No, not in me! I want youse both to come all over my body!”

Frozen with shock only for a moment, Spy concedes, “That is a reasonable request.” He pulls out of Scout and strokes himself until he’s letting it go all over Scout’s balls and prick and thighs. Sniper needs only a few tugs to coax three powerful volleys of his own spunk onto Scout’s belly and chest.

Glassy-eyed and boneless, Scout is dead weight now, and feels twice as heavy. Spy pushes him away and onto the mattress, where he lies glistening and sticky, completely wiped out, his lascivious tongue finally still. Filthy sighs of satisfaction drift through the humid bunk.

Spy is the first to rouse himself from this sex-induced stupor. “ _Ach_ , what a fucking mess,” he sneers. “There is spunk everywhere.”

With a put-upon sigh, Sniper fumbles around until he comes up with his discarded t-shirt, using it to tidy as best he can the evidence of Scout’s utter defilement. Scout’s limbs twitch softly, too sensitive for Sniper’s brusque clean-up. When Sniper is done, he tosses the shirt onto the floor. “Better?” he asks.

“I’m going back to my base soon,” Spy says with a shrug. He is well satisfied, but in his mind, a prolonged and tender afterglow does not become him. “It will be you who has to deal with this camper smelling like a reptile enclosure in a whorehouse.”

“Makes more sense than a whorehouse in a reptile enclosure,” Sniper reasons, with a shrug. Spy snorts derisively.

Just as Spy is readying himself to crawl over his companions’ blissfully exhausted bodies, Scout lifts his head. “Listen, I don’t know about youse guys,” he says, hoarsely, “but I’m kinda ready to go again.”

 


End file.
